


Four Wardens

by the_Dread_Wolf



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, Multiple Wardens, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 04:43:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6141880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_Dread_Wolf/pseuds/the_Dread_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Duncan recruited four Wardens instead of one. You'd think having five Wardens survive Ostagar would make things easier. It doesn't. </p><p>Based off an AU a friend and I fell headlong into with no hope of rescue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Wardens

The ground was shaking – or rather, as it turned out, he was. A bitter taste lingered in his mouth, sickly like bile with the coppery tang of blood. There was a ringing in his ear from when an emissary’s spell got too close and sent him crashing into a rack of armor just to avoid it. He was definitely shaking. His hands struggled to hold his bow and yet he found himself aiming yet another arrow at a genlock. A couple of quick shots – one, two – felled it.

“Fehlen.” His name. Someone was calling it. He turned his head and looked down. The dwarf, her blond hair matted with darkspawn blood, was giving him a lopsided grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “How are you holding up? Need a potion?”

She’s asking this in the middle of a fight? “No, I’m fine.” The words came out thick and didn’t feel right on his tongue. By the Dread Wolf, why couldn’t he talk?

She took his word for it and lunged back into the fray, knocking aside a hurlock with her shield as if it were nothing. Fehlen watched her for a moment before finding another target. He readied an arrow and aimed, only to have the shriek burst into flames with a scream. His gaze shot to his right. The elven mage from the Circle had beaten him to it.

“We need to keep moving!” The senior Grey Warden – Alistair – was shouting at them over the din of battle. “Our half hour is almost up!”

The remaining emissary had its head lopped off by the second shem in their group: Lyra. She whipped around, her fiery bun almost falling apart on top of her head and blood flecked across her cheeks. If she knew it was there, she didn’t care enough to wipe it away. “Then we move,” she replied, her voice hollow and hoarse.

They had gone up two flights of stairs. There couldn’t be much further to go before reaching the top and the awaiting beacon.

Alistair led the way with the dwarf trailing behind due to her shorter legs. She was the first to make it to the top of the stairs, and the first to be sent flying towards a pile of rubble by the ogre’s hand. The beast let out a quaking roar that rocked Fehlen to his very core.

“Zetha!” The mage cried out, starting forward only to be tackled to the ground by Lyra. They rolled a few feet – avoiding a huge, crashing fist by mere inches.

Fehlen didn’t have time to watch them get up, as the ogre turned to him and Alistair. Without a word, he dashed one way and Alistair the other.

The ogre went for Alistair first.

He snatched the man up in a meaty paw, drawing the other back and ready to crush his head into bloody pulp when Zetha came out of nowhere, rushing it. She slammed into the beast with the entire weight of her body. It wasn’t enough to make it stumble, but enough for Alistair gain his bearings and stab his sword into its wrist. The ogre dropped him with a deafening roar of pain. It kicked back and once more sent the dwarf flying through the air. This time, when she slammed against the wall and slumped down to the floor, she didn’t get back up.

Flames shot through the air and hit the beast in the face. The mage, Talian, was back onto his feet and was readying for another attack. But it was clear he had never faced combat to this extent. He only managed to get in a few more fireballs before it came charging at him instead. He tried to repel it, but the force of the beast hitting his barrier ended up knocking him down instead.

Alistair had staggered onto his feet, favoring his left side and obviously struggling with even keeping his sword lifted. He looked over at Fehlen, who had remained frozen since he witnessed the ogre scoop him up, and mustered a grin. There was blood in his teeth.

But there was no time to exchange words, as the ogre was turning its attention to Lyra. She was shouting, waving her sword around and hurling insults to draw it away from the stirring Talian. “Over here, you blighted bastard!” She spat, and swung her weapon around in circles above her head as it advanced. “You don’t scare me! Come at me!”

Despite her brave words, Fehlen could see her knees shaking. She was terrified.

It lowered its head and charged, aiming straight for her. Fehlen snapped to his senses and drew his bow. His arrow sliced through the air and hit the beast’s shoulder. A heartbeat later Alistair came sprinting across the room, sword abandoned as he raced to reach Lyra before the ogre.

He shoved Lyra out of the way and took the brunt force of the charge instead.

Lyra sprawled, and Alistair hit the wall, smacking his head hard before dropping like a stone.

The ogre pivoted and locked its black eyes on him. Fehlen’s legs shook and his hand scrambled for another arrow. His fingertips brushed over three.

Roaring with such force the rubble on the floor bounced, the ogre trudged towards him. Fehlen set his arrow in place and tried to steady his aim, focusing on the center of its forehead. If he was going to join the Creators, he would try to take this beast with him.

Time slowed down as the ogre lowered into a final charge. Its massive foot stepped forward, and Lyra shot up from behind, broadsword raised high. She stabbed into its back, using all of her weight to sink it down as deep as it could go. The ogre bellowed in pure agony, twisting its body in an attempt to fling her off. Lyra jerked back and forth before letting go, flying to the ground. She landed hard, attempted to get up only to collapse. Meanwhile the ogre was staggering and waving a giant hand behind it in an attempt to yank the sword free.

Fehlen released the arrow.

It embedded directly between the creature’s eyes. It twitched one last time before it swayed on its feet and fell forward. The ground shook on impact, blood seeping onto the stone. Fehlen lowered his bow. A soft rain began falling through the broken roof, hitting the tips of his ears and nose.

_The signal._

Stumbling towards the shaft, he snatched the torch from the wall and tossed it into the kindling. Flames sprang up high and travelled upwards, lighting the beacon at the very top for all of Ostagar to see.

He looked towards his companions. He was the only one still standing. He took a shaky step towards Lyra, ready to grab a potion and force it down her throat of need be. But he never got the chance. The stairway rumbled as more darkspawn poured from the lower parts of the tower. Fehlen spun around, and then stumbled back as a sharp pain shot across his chest. An arrow stuck out above his right breast. He didn’t have the chance to ready his bow, as more arrows stuck into his chest, until the fifth one made him fall onto his back.

His vision grew spotty and dark around the edges. Darkspawn chattered as they advanced, and he shut his eyes. Consciousness drifted away from him, but as it did, he could have sworn he heard the beating of enormous wings. 

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters won't always be linear. Some will be longer than others.


End file.
